Exceptions
by circas
Summary: Travis /did/ vow not to have anymore sex. But in his case, exceptions could always be made with the right person.
1. Chapter 1

Dating in the work place had become monotonous. Hell, _dating _was rather dull. And Travis enjoyed the feelings that came along with being a single man. No girlfriend to yell at him at an un-godly hour in the morning for not returning her phone calls the night before, no overly-attached and desperate lady that would practically _die _if Travis were to hint so much at spending a little time apart, and not having to deal with the broken heart of some girl he could barely remember the name of by next week.

Yeah, he liked the freedom. The freedom to pick up that girl from the bar two blocks from his place that's been eyeing him down with a hunger that sent tremors up his spine.

It was easy really. Only a few words were exchanged before Travis found himself being shoved onto his own bed – if you could call it that – with his hands fumbling clumsily at the belt holding him together. The pretty girl just smirked at him, inching up her sinfully tight dress as she drug her hips in the most teasing matter against Travis' growing erection. And with that, he decided to tilt his head back and relinquish whatever control he thought he had over to her, deciding that it was his turn to be on the receiving end.

He wouldn't be forgetting that night anytime soon, for he woke up that next morning with a terrible itch in his pelvic region. Travis just heaved out a sigh and cursed under his breath, knowing that that sex was too good to be without consequences. That same day, calling in sick to the precinct and rejecting any texts and calls Wes bombarded him with in the first hour his absence was noted, Travis made his way down to a local walk-In clinic. The visit wasn't so bad if you discount the fact that the woman that conducted the examination happened to be an ex from a few years back. Travis just kept flipping aimlessly through one of the many magazines that were strewn across the porcelain-white table beside the lab-bed he sat on. Only when the woman cleared her throat did Travis actually look up. She was still just as stunning even with that thin lipped expression.

It was forty five minutes at most, and Travis left the clinic with what felt like the world on his shoulders. Possible signs of Chlamydia; what in the hell was he going to do now? Was that even curable?

A solid week passed in a haze while Travis waited for the damn letter to come in the mail. And when that day finally came, it took nearly every ounce of energy the man had just to haul himself out of his cot. His nerves were on edge. Travis clutched the small, white envelope in his hands – heart hammering in his ears while he prayed to whatever deity in the sky that would listen. He tore at the paper carefully while his thoughts screamed at him the mantra: _You idiot you idiot you fucking idiot_

And all he could do was just drop to the rugged carpet beneath his feet. Negative. Travis could have never imaged such a word could harbor news in his favor. He sat there with the slightly crumpled letter in his hands, re-reading the bold, red print that read negative, just for reassurance that his sleep deprived mind hadn't deceived him.

"No more sex." Travis was almost sure that he only said it in his thoughts until he felt his mouth form around the syllables a second time. "No. . .more sex."

It was the first time in the span of a few weeks that Wes was greeted with Travis' usual obnoxious, smug attitude. Wes wouldn't dare allow Travis to have the pleasure of knowing that he genuinely _missed_ that. Orderly, pristine, and obsessive compulsive to the teeth, a person would think Wes would welcome the absence. But he _thrived_ on it. Whatever junk that had Travis so silent and reclusive had finally been shaken off his partner; Wes was practically thrilled. But on the outside, he still wore that grimace of annoyance towards the man. This said grimace deepened into a scowl while Travis swept Wes' Latte from his hands and took a sloppy swig from the mug, smiling that incredibly dopey yet charming smile.

"Mmm, mocha right?" Travis eyed the contents of the mug with mock fascination. Wes pressed his lips together in a tight line and reached his hand out, beckoning the return of his coffee. And Travis kept smiling that stupid smile. Another sip, then another until Travis made his way back to his desk and finished off the last bit of the drink, hovering the cup above his head as he stuck his tongue out to lick at any stray droplets that remained.

Wes leaned his chin on laced fingers and said, "You know I _really_ missed not having to put up with your insufferable-" Travis smacked his lips together loudly. "That was absolutely delicious Wesley, 'preciate it," he clapped his hands together and cracked open one of the many files piled on the side of his cluttered desk. Wes sat there with his mouth hanging open, frustration clear on his face. Though, he'd rather be irritated then not feel anything at all. It's why he needed Travis around.

The day had been slow and filled with Wes trying to aid in lessening the load of paper work that Travis had severely fallen behind on. Being as stubborn as always, Travis insisted with raised hands that he could handle it. Wes took great delight in the way Travis scratched at his temple, obviously stumped and exasperated. He just grinned inwardly.

When the precinct was nearly empty, Wes stretched his arms high over his head and yawned, silently bidding his partner goodnight with the nod of his head.

"Wes," Travis called out. Wes sighed and pivoted on his heel. He stumbled back a few steps as Travis was all but invading his personal space, grabbing at his hand and thrusting a five dollar bill in his palm. Wes quirked an eyebrow.

"For the coffee from earlier." Travis stepped around Wes and headed out of the double doors to his motorcycle parked to the far right of the building.

Wes just stood there with the crisp bill between his fingertips. That was odd, even for Travis.

Travis had always been attracted to his partner. Who in their right mind wouldn't be? He had a slight build, but Travis imagined underneath all that expensive tailored wear, there was a taut body underneath. Not to mention that exquisite control-freak mind-set of his.

What he pulled today was risky, and Travis was honestly a little surprised that Wes hadn't even really noticed. Between tossing pages around in their respected folder and filling out credentials, Travis wasn't particularly shy with the way he let his eyes trail over his cohort. The man busied himself with his computer one minute, then tidying up stray bits of paper on his desk the next; basically avoiding contact with Travis. And he wondered if it was because of his little stunt earlier that morning. He doubted it.

With the STD scare still looming over his head, Travis _did _vow not to have anymore sex. But in his case, exceptions could always be made with the right person. And God was he tired of dancing around this _thing_ Wes and him had. They did have something; Travis just never really invested the energy in trying to exploit what that something actually was. He just hoped that it wasn't one sided.

A soundless gasp left his lips as he lazily stroked himself. It wasn't the first time Travis got off to Wes; definitely wouldn't be the last either. Travis remembered that look Wes had when he crowded into his space; mouth hanging slightly open, eyebrows raised in confusion. Travis' eyes were locked on Wes' lips for just a second, wondering what kind of reaction he would reward him with if Travis were to sweep his tongue across that bottom lip that was just begging to be kissed. Of course he wasn't going to act on the urge even though every nerve shouted at him to do so.

It was embarrassing how quickly Travis felt his release build up, his body reacted to the littlest things Wes did. Like the way he'd scoff at whatever reckless act Travis would get himself into, or the way he'd furrow his brow in concentration while he listened to a suspect lie their way into imprisonment. It was just those little things he did that got Travis so hot and needy. He'd think to himself often that he was only attracted to the man because he was unattainable. He always had an issue with wanting things he knew was just out of reach. But Wes; that was a far cry. The man was so shut off and reserved that it drove Travis up the wall, also making Wes an easy target for his constant teasing. He was just so used to women being like an open book, talking too much and leaving too little to the imagination. It wasn't like that with Wes.

Travis chewed on his lip as he flicked his wrist and squeezed at his dripping head, visualizing that it was Wes' cool, un-calloused hand. He could see it as if it were actually happening to him. He'd be steady and precise with his movements, making sure that every pull and tug was not wasted, but only aided in making Travis' toes curl and forcing out short grunts between clenched teeth. _Come for me Travis._

He was disappointed when he spilled in his own hand and not Wes'.


	2. Chapter 2

He's even more disappointed when the heater and Christmas lights that adorned his cramped trailer shut off, leaving him in the cool dark to his thoughts and a messy hand.

Travis wipes himself off with the sheets on his cot and gets up with a groan, tripping over half-eaten takeout and ruffled clothing. He reaches for his cell phone at the foot of his bed and switches on the screen to examine the light socket in the wall. It was definitely shot. "Son of a bitch," he muttered. The last time this happened, he wasn't able to get the power back on for a solid week and he sure as _hell _wasn't going to sit in this freezing box with no heat or electricity. He groaned again. Now what in the hell was he going to do?

Wes.

No.

That was just something awful waiting to happen. And Travis doubted the man would even let him stay in his suite for longer than a few hours at most if he could help it. He plopped back down onto the cot and rubbed at his face. Travis didn't have many options. So he called Wes.

Damn that asshole for not picking up. For all the time he and Wes had been friends, he had _always_ answered his phone. If that wasn't a sign Travis didn't know what was.

"-leave your message after the tone." God even Wes' voicemail had Travis licking his lips.

"Uh, hey Wes um," Travis scratched his chin at a loss for words. It was almost funny; he was always quick to jab and poke fun at Wes, but when it came to just leaving a message, Travis had no idea what to say. The silence trudged on for a few more seconds. He took a deep breath. "The power in my place went out and uh, I kinda need somewhere to crash for just a few days so..." He trailed off, eyes falling to his feet. "Ya, it'd be really cool if you'd let me stay with you, y'know for just a couple of days. Guess that's all, bye Wes." He hung up the phone and tossed it across the room.

Wes froze with a hand wrapped around his cock when he felt his phone vibrate violently in the back pocket of his slacks. Was it Alex? She never called unless she needed something which was rare.

Was it Travis..?

Wes bit his lip and pulled the mobile out his pocket. It was. Wes breathed out an uneasy laugh. Here he was, fingers fisted around his member and Travis' name on his lips.

It was a long day! Wes had thought as soon walked through the door. And what better way to unwind than to just lay atop the crisp white sheets of his bed and reacquaint himself with his hand. It wasn't a daily thing, no, it was incredibly hard not to think about Alex at times like these and when he did, the want to pleasure himself died quickly. But this time, it was different. When he slid his hand into his briefs and gripped at his sex, there was nothing on Wes' mind, and he welcomed that. And as the minutes ticked by, he recalled how weird it was back at the precinct today.

He'd notice from his peripherals the way Travis' eyes lingered on him. First he paid no mind to it, thinking Travis was merely lost in thought and was staring into space. When Wes would turn to his computer and fumble with the controls, he could feel that stare on his neck, seeping right through his skin and it just made him _shudder._ Again, he paid no mind and let off an aloof expression.

But Wes couldn't shake what happened right before he left for the day. Wes' eyes were shut but all he could see was that strong stubbly jaw and those incredible blue eyes fixated on his lips. Travis was just so _close_ so damn close that Wes could feel the heat just radiating from his chest. Could even feel the hot puff of air against his nose that Travis excelled when he put the five dollar bill in Wes' hand. Travis had said something, but he didn't register it and next thing he knew, Wes heard the doors shutting loudly in the silence of the empty precinct.

His hips moved of their own accord as he picked up the pace and squeezed himself as he pumped his cock.

Wes was _not _attracted to Travis. It was just his libido reacting to the close proximity they were in. Wes wasn't even attracted to men! But there was no denying the moan that slipped between his teeth when he pictured those plush lips attaching themselves to his throat, sucking a terribly large bruise on his skin. Wes gritted his teeth in frustration, convincing himself that the only reason Travis had entered his thoughts in a time like this was because Wes hasn't had sex in such a long time. He was man, men liked sex. But sex with Travis...

And then the phone went off and nearly scared him to death.

He almost answered it, he really did but his hand just wasn't having it. It just stayed there stationary on his achingly red cock. When the vibrations finally died down, Wes jerked himself a few more times, coming with a soft cry all over his stomach. Then, he just felt sick to his stomach. He had just gotten off to the thought of Travis.

The next day was a Saturday and Wes had finally gotten around to checking his voicemail.

_It'd be really cool if you'd let me stay with you._

Wes groaned loudly. Really? Was this actually happening to him right now of all times? Sex deprived and hormones all over the place, Wes just couldn't handle the very person walking into his sexual fantasies _living _with him for a few days. Wes chewed on the indie of his cheek as he listened to the voice message again. He never really noticed how. . .alluring Travis' voice was. Deep, and fluctuated often when he spoke. Wes didn't understand why he went to his contacts and dialed Travis' number because he was not letting Travis stay with him. The phone rang once.

He's just going to mess up his room and eat all his damn food!

A second time.

He wouldn't even have a place to sleep!

Another time.

They could share his bed – it _was _large enough.

"Hello?" Travis' voice was low; almost sleepy like.

"I just got your voicemail this morning," Wes stated.

"And your answer?" His tone sounded almost hopeful.

"Well, I don't see why not." There was no turning back now. Silence hung in the air for a few moments until Wes heard rustling on the other end of the phone and Travis finally said "I'll be there later tonight, and hey, cook me up something real nice kay? Since I am your guest and all." Wes could practically _feel _that shit-eating grin.

Wes snorted. "Bring your own food." Travis' laugh was hearty and Wes couldn't help but smile a little.

"I've got an idea, how 'bout, I cook you up something to eat, y'know as a thank you for letting me stay at your place for a bit."

"You, cooking, for me? That's hilarious!"

"I'm serious! I've got many layers to me man, and being an excellent cook is one of them. Get ready to be wowed." Travis sounded pretty confident, but that was how Travis was about everything. "I won't take no for an answer," he said sternly.

Like he's in any position to give orders! Alas Wes found himself agreeing and taking Travis up on his offer.

They talked for a little longer – just of aimless things and Wes thought it was nice. He didn't really have any real friends besides Travis, and even that felt like it was enough. He was what filled the void that Alex had created in him.

Wes eventually hung up and looked around his painfully clean room with hands on his hips. _Where is he going to sleep… _he thought to himself. Travis has been here enough times to know that the loveseat was far too small for someone with his frame, and he just couldn't see Travis sleeping on the floor. They'll cross that bridge when they get there.


End file.
